Catch up on the earlier chapters here
For some reason Father’s car wasn’t rattling anymore. It might have been the extra weight in front. Vlad shared a seat with mum’s spirit, or ghost or whatever it was that Father thought he saw.
It only took two words from Vlad and she was displaced and he was directing Father through the dark, snowy streets. Essie and I stared hard out at the shapes lurking through the fogged-up glass but they meant nothing to us.
Mo wasn’t even looking. He fiddled with the straps on his backpack. Eleven years of possessions sat in the small bag on his lap.
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